


After School Special

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting high and fucking your best friend: One of the unsung pleasures of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After School Special

It was a hot Sunday. Michael had slept over and Ray’s parents were out, along with his brother, who was happily choosing dorm life over squeezing into a bedroom with his younger sibling. The pair of them couldn’t shake off the lethargy from staying up until three or four, talking quietly in the dark, small room, Ray in his bed and Michael in his brother’s. They were up at eleven, scrounged around for breakfast and went out to the Seven – Eleven two blocks down to pick up some snacks, and broke into Ray’s brother’s stash before one.

The bedroom door was closed, the two small windows propped open by rumbling fans that only just managed to hold off the early spring heat. Michael had a red Slurpee in one hand, blunt in the other, and was on his stomach, head dangling off the edge of Ray’s bed. He had taken his jeans off the second Ray suggested getting high, saying that if he was going to be in a hotbox for two hours or more, he was going to be comfortable. Ray’s laptop was on the other bed, open and playing a speedrun of Dead Space 3. He had a blue Slurpee because it was the obvious choice, though he didn’t say so, because letting Michael get his hands on something that stained his lips scarlet made going outside into the humid heat worth it.

“Here, give me,” Ray leaned over Michael’s back and made a grab for the joint, but Michael jerked away at the last second, sluggish as his movements were.

“Nah, just get a new one.” He took a hit, turned his head at a severe angle and blew the smoke in Ray’s face.

“You’re an asshole,” Ray said, though he clamored off the bed anyway, rummaging further into his brother’s sock drawer. His brother hated when he went through his stash, but half his friends were dealers and cut him prices all the time, anyway. And besides, if he did more than playfully wrestle Ray for taking some pot, then Ray would be totally justified in snitching. It wasn’t like Ray – or Michael, for that matter – couldn’t go out and get a dime bag from their own goddamn neighbors, it was just that they were lazy, and Michael’s brothers were more prone to getting their little brother in trouble than Ray’s was.

That’s what they all say,” Michael said, taking another hit and turning onto his back, blowing smoke into the air.  “Aw, shit, just remembered I had a fucking essay due in Bronsen’s class tomorrow. Or… maybe it was Tuesday? Who knows?” Ray glanced over at him from above the rim of his glasses. Michael’s shirt had ridden up and he was wearing boxer-briefs today. The light blue ones. The  _tight_ light blue ones. Ray dug out a lighter and held it to the end of the joint, taking his first hit in a deep, long inhale. He closed his eyes, waited a few seconds, and let the smoke out.

“It’s May, I doubt he’ll give a shit,” he said, voice tight.

“Hmm, yeah, guess that’s true.”

“’Course it is, I fucking said it.”

“Says the guy who almost failed English last year.”

Ray cleared his throat. “Clearly that teacher was racist.”

“But you can’t even speak Spanish! Get the fuck outta here, Ray. She probably didn’t even know you were Puerto Rican. You’re almost as pale as me.”

“Fair enough.”

Michael had been Ray’s best friend through all of high school. They liked the same games, and the same music, and were both growing out of their awkwardness at the same too-slow pace. They had gotten high together for the first time sophomore year after one of Ray’s friends had needed to use up his meager stash before his parents came home, and of course Ray called Michael up to ask his help. He still remembered the pair of them fiddling with lighting the pipe for an embarrassingly long amount of time, burning their fingers because they were stupid and clumsy and way too high for their first time. Since Ray didn’t drink, and for Michael it was easier to smoke than stash booze somewhere, it became a habitual thing, like pulling out an old game or putting on a particular t-shirt. The timing had to be right, between his parents being gone and his brother away and not having anything too important to do later on. A hot, lazy Sunday could only be improved by getting high, really.

Not to mention that getting high led to other things, too.

The pair of them smoking pot together either spurred on or coincided with the friends-with-benefits thing. It wasn’t exactly unexpected – ever since they met the two of them seemed to be in a neverending game of gay chicken with each other. The gay jokes always went way too far, way too fast, and the fake flirting and no respect for personal space, all peppered with frantic ‘no homo!’ lines. It stayed that way for two years or so, but at sixteen everyone thinks they’re hot shit and deserve a car and all the free blowjobs in the world, so there was probably too much testosterone or something between them. Ray took another hit and sat down next to Michael, who had wormed his way slightly up the bed so his head was resting on the piled up blankets.

It also didn’t help that the two of them couldn’t keep it in their pants when they got more than a few hits in them.

Some people were like that, they found out. Michael got giggly, Ray got hungry, and they both got inexplicably horny, and they only smoked together, so…

Already Ray was shifting in his seat, watching Michael, who was watching the ceiling. His Slurpee was drained, sitting on the floor, and Michael’s mouth looked like it had lipstick smeared all over it. Ray appreciated the other’s profile – the freckles, the thin glasses, the soft face and stained mouth and curled hair, slightly damp from sweat. He looked over and saw Ray looking at him, and very deliberately put the slow burning joint in his mouth.

Ray took another hit, letting the paper linger at his lips until they were stuck there. He didn’t inhale, not yet, but breathing in was enough to get the faintest hints of a buzz, anyway, or at least let him imagine it. He blinked, looking down at Michael, his friend, half dressed and horny in his bed.

Ray decided that he would definitely do something about that once he finished smoking.

“Hey,” Michael croaked, voice lower than normal and sleepy. Ray hummed in acknowledgement. “We haven’t shotgunned in a long time,”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re done with yours.” Michael took one last long draw from the joint before rolling over and dropping it into the Slurpee cup. He turned back to Ray, and he noticed that Michael was already half hard; his shorts tightening at his crotch more significantly than a few minutes ago.

“Maybe I am.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Greedy bitch,”

“Oh yeah, I want it all.”

“All of my cock,” Ray muttered, but he couldn’t deny the other when he reached his arms up, hands making a petulant ‘come here’ signal. Ray straddled Michael’s waist and took another hit before leaning down over the other. He raised his eyebrows.

“Please, Ray?” he asked, raising his voice in a cutesy sort of tone. He opened his mouth, the inside just as red as his lips, brown eyes approaching black with how blown his pupils were. Ray leaned down further, kissing into Michael’s mouth and holding his breath. He pulled back after a second, licked along the other’s lips, and exhaled in a sigh, sending white smoke into the other’s lungs.

Ray loved getting high. Maybe not as much as some other people he knew, but after the first few times, once he had gotten used to the effects and had the hang of rolling a blunt, he knew why his brother had a dozen of them at all times in a plastic bag in his drawer. It was something instantaneous, like breathing in the smoke made it settle into his own blood; the feeling left him relaxed, moreso than usual. He was sure it was better than drinking.

Then of course there was the arousal – that was a nice fucking perk. A relaxant and an aphrodisiac all in one. The warmth went from his head to his limbs and settled nicely in the base of his pelvis. Any little thing could turn him on if he wanted; it was like being in middle school all over again, but he was so mellowed out that he didn’t feel the need to do anything about it, if he really didn’t want to.

Michael exhaled just to the side of Ray’s face and blinked slowly up at him. His mouth tugged up in a smile and he let out a low chuckle. “Fuck, dude,” he said, teeth showing. He giggled slightly, covering his eyes with his hand. Ray sighed to himself, took a few hits while Michael laughed at whatever. He tried to roll over, but Ray’s weight on top of Michael stopped him. After a few minutes he had seemed to get over his episode, and Ray’s eyes were burning with the smoke in his face. His throat felt dry and he reached to the floor, pulling up his Slurpee and draining the rest of it. He felt like he was mostly liquid. Well. Human bodies were  _mostly_ liquid anyway but, like. He  _felt_ the liquid, boneless part. Or something. Maybe? He forced himself to stop thinking and took another hit. “One more time,” Michael said quietly, and Ray examined what was nearly a roach, but shrugged. “Let me start it.”

“You know how much I like putting things in your mouth,” Ray replied, pinching the end of the joint and letting Michael close his lips around it. He felt the other’s chest rise, his stomach more inhibited by Ray’s position on him. Michael opened his mouth again and Ray reached past him, dropping the dead blunt into Michael’s Slurpee cup before pulling back and settling lower. He felt his cock brush against Michael’s.

He propped himself up on his elbows. Michael reached a hand up, cupping Ray’s jaw, stroking along the dark, defined stubble that was starting to grow there. His thumb went to the corner of Ray’s lips, and he opened his mouth obediently, letting Michael’s thumb dip just along his row of teeth as he breathed out and Ray breathed in, the smoke seeming to go to his head and his lungs at the same time. It curled within him and he held it, hearing the wet sound of Michael’s lips kissing into his. It was like he was half dreaming, some senses acute and others fogged and late to meet his brain: he hummed into the kiss, settling deeper into the high. When Michael pulled back, already looking flushed, Ray breathed the last of the smoke into Michael’s mouth, sealing it with another deep kiss.

Of course it was possible to shotgun without kissing. Ray had seen plenty of people do it – well, maybe they were videos, but he  _had_ seen it, confirmed it as fact. But ever since he and Michael started smoking together, they had never made it through a single session without making out; not once. And they hardly made it through a session without making each other come – that sometimes happened more than once each, too.

Ray pulled back and kissed down the side of Michael’s neck. He heard his friend sigh, then moan, hips pressing gently up against Ray’s crotch. “Hm, yeah,” he breathed out dreamily. “Hey Ray?” He felt Michael’s fingers in his hair. Above him another giggle came out. “That fuckin’ rhymed.  _Hey Ray._ Hey-Rey. Pfft, fucking stupid, man.” Another thing that seemed to happen every time the two of them got high was that Michael would somehow make the dumbest fucking comments about his name. Seriously, if Michael was going to call him a ‘real ray of sunshine’ and shit he could just stay sober and hang out with Barbara instead.

“Mm?” He didn’t stop kissing at Michael’s skin, instead reaching a hand up to pull at his shirt collar, licking along the junction between Michael’s neck and shoulder.

“This feels really fuckin’ sweet.” Another hand wrapped around the back of Ray’s neck, like Michael was trying to pull him close. “I love you, man.”

Ray rolled his eyes, pulled back as far as Michael’s hold would let him. “You love my cock.”

“Your cock is included in the whole of you, asshole.”

“You love my ass, too.” Michael’s hand immediately went from his neck to one of his cheeks. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, squeezing Ray’s ass and looking incredibly pleased about it. “Now come on,” He pressed against Ray’s shoulder, taking his arms away. “Let me top this time.”

“You’re messed up, man,” Ray said affectionately. He sat up slightly, the movement reverberating around their hips. He lazily thrust against Michael again; not too desperate to get off just yet.

“If you got a third joint you wouldn’t even notice,” Michael raised his head, moving his eyebrows suggestively at Ray before letting his head fall back against the blankets.

“If you smoke anything else in the next hour you’re going to give yourself a migraine and pass out.” His brother didn’t buy shitty supply.

Michael grunted, softly conceding with Ray’s logic. “Wanna shotgun again, though. It’s nice,” One of Michael’s hands found Ray’s arm and started rubbing it soothingly, his fingers curling around the other man’s wrist. The air was heady and just as stuffy as before, and being on top of Michael – he jutted his hips forward again at the thought, hearing the other groan quietly beneath him – was making him hot. He peeled his shirt off his back and tossed it on the floor.

“We can just makeout,” Ray said, rising up and putting his hands on Michael’s stomach.

“Oh yeah,” Michael said, smiling. “We have the technology.”

“Take off your shirt, first. Your six pack gets me so hot.”

Michael snorted but rolled up his T-shirt, struggling a moment before slipping it off and dropping it on the floor. He settled back down again and grabbed at Ray’s hips. “Take off your pants. Your dick is probably suffocating.”

“What would you know about my dick?” Ray asked, already undoing the button on his shorts.

"Dude, I know so much about your dick. I’m like your personal cockologist.”

“Personal cocksucker.” He rose up on his knees and pushed his shorts down, realized his mistake and swung sideways, standing up and sliding his pants the rest of the way down before kicking them away and getting back to Michael.

“Hmm, that too. I’d say I do a pretty good job. Am I right?”

Ray leaned over Michael again. “We all know you’re a great man-whore. Now shut up and kiss me.” As soon as he opened his mouth he felt Michael’s hand in his hair, pushing him down.

As far as Ray was concerned – and Michael too, if he was motivated enough to stop kissing and ask – getting stoned and screwing around with your best friend was highly recommended, would fuck again, and all that. They were both total virgins outside of this, and no one besides them had any clue they spent every other weekend like this. It was a great secret to keep.

Michael’s hands were hard on Ray’s hips, and his lips were soft and red. Perfect, in other words, and Ray wet them with his tongue before kissing into his mouth again. Michael had his hands on his ass again, and Ray kept on having to pull back to catch his breath – Michael was flushed, freckles standing out on his pink cheeks. “Fuck, you look hot,” Ray groaned, brushing the other’s curls out of his face.

“Oh yeah?” Michael said, teasingly thrusting his hips up; his dick was hard now, no doubt about it.

“Kind of wanna fuck you.” Ray said, tone breezy even as his stomach clenched hotly at the thought. It had been ages since they got high, and even longer since they did more than some lighthearted messing around. He definitely wanted a proper fuck.

“Kinda want to fuck you yourself,” Michael said, glancing up at him. “So we’re at an impasse, I guess.”

“Big words, Jones.”

“Impasse is like, eight letters.”

“Seven. Impasse is seven letters.”

“Whatever. Wanna make whoever comes first take it up the ass?”

“Jesus,” Ray turned red, he was sure of it. If only he wasn’t so pale, then Michael wouldn’t know how affected he was and then he wouldn’t smile so goddamn smugly at him.

“What? That’s how we usually decide. Better than flipping a coin, at least.”

“Yeah but, you never said it like that. We’re just like, ‘usual tie-breaker?’ or whatever.”

“Poor Ray,” Michael’s hands were rubbing up and down in his back. “Never got used to talking dirty.”

“That’s not talking dirty that’s just. Uh, whatever. So are we doing this or not?”

“Whenever you’re ready, big boy.”

“Please. Never say that again.” Ray thrust his hips forward, more meaning behind it now, and hoped that soon Michael wouldn’t be saying much at all.

To be totally honest, fucking or getting fucked were both fine in his mind, and when Michael did lose in their little ‘tie-breaker’ thing, he never bitched about it, so that meant he was probably fine with it, too. It was just the principle of the thing, probably.

Ray ground his hips down against Michael’s crotch, biting along his shoulder. They didn’t go on the neck unless they were trying to be assholes, because making up a fake girlfriend at school might work, but parents? No way. They made up for it by bruising each other’s hips and thighs, though, leaving reminders with their fingers and mouth for the other could find later, knowing the marks alone could get them hard all by itself. Michael was pushing him forward at where their cocks were rubbing up against each other. He heard Michael moan, almost a growl, and smirked into the other’s skin. “Feel good?” he murmured into Michael’s ear.

“Fuck yes, it feels good,” Michael groaned, reaching a hand down and palming Ray’s cock through his underwear. “How’s that?”

Ray breathed out slowly, trying not to give himself away. Michael was starting to roll his own hips into the back of his hand, which put even more pressure against Ray’s dick. “Wanna touch you,” Michael said, rubbing his hand slightly against Ray’s crotch.

“Already touching me, dipshit,” Ray struggled to say, but he got off of Michael anyway, sitting at the head of the bed. Michael sat up as well. The blue underwear he was wearing was stained dark, the outline of his cock obvious in the fabric; Ray swallowed, eyes glued to the spot.

“Are these your favorite?” Michael asked, snapping at the waistband. “I always try and wear them when I come over.”

“Seriously?” Ray asked, glancing up at Michael’s face; red and smirking.

“Seriously.” Michael squeezed himself through the shorts, groaning softly, before slowly –  _teasingly_  – working them down his thighs, just enough to slip his cock free. His eyes were glazed over now. “Show you mine if you show me yours,” he rasped, and Ray pulled down his underwear like he was on autopilot, like he had no choice at all.

“Fuck,” Michael groaned, shifting towards Ray, resting on his knees. He reached a hand out, wrapping loosely around Ray’s shaft and giving a few lax strokes. Ray pulled Michael closer to him, pushing his underwear down a little further, and wrapping his hand around the other’s cock.

They started kissing again, groaning, Michael’s knees pressed against Ray’s calves. Michael cradled his balls while Ray thumbed the head of Michael’s already dripping cock, and between the pot and the handjobs it was a miracle they could even get their lungs to work right. Ray shifted slightly in his spot, realizing he was getting close. Michael was panting, shifting like he wanted Ray to stroke him harder – he obliged, feeling another shot of arousal come into him when he heard Michael go, “Oh, fuck, Ray, do that again,” against his mouth.

Michael rubbed the palm of his hand in lazy circles against the tip of Ray’s dick and he shuttered, feeling Michael’s smarmy expression against his mouth; it was dizzying and made his mind fog up even more than before. He was too far gone to keep his mouth shut, whining out “ _Michael_ …” while he tugged at the other’s cock.

“You’re losing it,” Michael admonished, ducking down to bite Ray’s shoulder. Looking down at the curve of Michael’s freckled back, he saw the other’s muscles tight and trembling; he was losing it, too. Ray made his strokes longer, twisting as he went and thumbing Michael’s slit on the upstroke. “Oh, shit…” Michael whimpered, and Ray thought Michael was about to come when the other shifted, stroking Ray and sliding a finger past his balls, nudging at his hole – it was so sudden Ray jumped, losing rhythm on Michael’s dick while he continued to get pleasure mindlessly,

“I…” He wriggled, trying to pick up the pace on Michael’s cock  gain even as he felt a tug at the base of his spine. He held his breath like he was waiting for something.

Michael took his mouth off his skin and looked up at Ray with fogged over eyes. “You gonna come for me now, baby?” he said, his voice low and husky and –

“Aw fuck!” Ray bit his lip, not able to prevent a low groan from slipping out. He felt his cock twitch, hips involuntarily thrusting up into Michael’s hand and fuck he could feel his own come leaking down his shaft. Michael kept stroking him until his legs were shaking and he rolled his head back, gasping up at the ceiling. God, that felt  _amazing_.

Michael pulled back slightly, rubbing his thumb in a circle along Ray’s hip and leaving a fucking wet mark. Ray shoved him away. “That’s not fucking fair,” he grunted, trying to regain his composure. Michael just shrugged, wiping the rest of his hand off on Ray’s crumped up underwear, still clinging to his legs.

“Not my fault you’re sensitive. What’re you gonna do? Fight me?” Ray scowled at Michael for a moment, then rolled the two of them sideways, shoving his friend off the bed with a loud thump.

“Ow! Fucker!”

“You were practically begging for it,” Ray said, watching Michael from the ground. He got onto his knees and slid his underwear the rest of the way down, dropping them on top of Michael.

He went to his night stand, digging around for a bit. His brother had condoms stashed somewhere, and the first few times they had used them, but quickly decided it was pointless since they had only ever been with each other, and anyway, getting out of bed while both high and horny was just  _not_ happening, sex-ed be damned. Ray tore open a packet of lube and squeezed some onto his fingers, quickly prodding himself open.

“I wanted to do that,” Michael said, standing next to Ray, now. His knees were red from landing on the floor, and he was completely naked now, too. Ray smiled sweetly up at him.

“Yeah, you just got out of bed for some reason, couldn’t wait any longer, you know?” He added a second finger and tried to school his face. Sometimes getting worked open was fun, sometimes. But at this moment it was more important to annoy Michael than get off; his cock was still soft, anyway. Which didn’t stop Michael from reaching forward, ghosting his hands along his length and making him shiver. “Cut it out,” he groaned, pressing forward into himself before pulling out and adding a third finger, his arm already aching from the awkward angle.

Michael reached for the packet and squeezed the rest of it out into his palm. He tossed the container to the side and stroked his cock, which hadn’t gone down much since their tie breaker ended. He sighed quietly to himself, making Ray’s cock twitch in interest as he watched Michael touch himself.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking up. “Get on the bed for me?” Michael nodded and lay next to him. Ray pulled his fingers out, wiping the remaining lube on his sheets. Michael started to sit up again, but Ray was faster, the idea already fully formed in his head. He swung his leg over Michael’s hip, like they had done before, and leaned forward, pressing his forearms against Michael’s hands and resting his weight there.

“What the fuck, Ray!” he shouted, wriggling a bit. “We had a deal, asshole.” Ray pulled back and put his hands up.

“Okay okay! You get to fuck me. But…” He straddled himself more firmly on the other man. “I get to ride you. How about that?”

“Why should I let you?”

“Because I wanna fucking try it, okay? Promise I won’t make any cowboy jokes. Please?”

Michael grunted but didn’t try to flip them. “What about – next time we get high I get to come on your face. Glasses on.” Ray’s face grew hot immediately.

“Jesus, what is it with you and my glasses. You have glasses, too, you know.”

Michael shrugged, and apparently being reminded, tugged the glasses off his face and put them on the nightstand. “So that means you can come on my glasses too one day, I don’t fucking care.” Ray sighed.

“Yeah, okay, fine.”

“Then ride away, cowgirl.” Ray glared down at him.

“Fuckin’ hate you,” he said. Michael laughed, and Ray got onto his knees, wrapping a hand around Michael’s cock and giving it a few firm strokes before lining up and pushing down. He took a deep breath as the head of the other’s shaft pushed against his hole. The initial shove was the worst, the weirdest, but it passed with an exhale of relief, and the rest was, in Ray’s opinion, pretty easy from there.

“S-shit,” Michael stuttered, hands squeezing Ray’s thighs. “You’re really tight.”

“Obviously,” Ray muttered. “Miss having your cock in my ass?” He circled his hips until Michael had bottomed out inside of him – the last inch made him clench up, his hand unconsciously going to his stomach; it wasn’t like he had a bulge or that it hurt, or anything, but fuck, he felt full. He chanced to look up at Michael; his face was still flush, making his freckles stick out. His lips had lost some of their artificial red color, but they were puffy and bruised from kisses. Michael met Ray’s eyes then.

“What?” he said, shifting at either the way Ray was looking at him, or the feeling of his cock being squeezed. Ray just shook his head, refusing to answer. He moved halfway up Michael’s cock, feeling the lube stick to his thighs as he started fucking himself, working to a faster pace while Michael moaned and cursed quietly under him. “Y-you look good,” he heard Michael say, the phrase halfway between a genuine compliment and his stab at talking dirty; it made Ray smile, anyways. He leaned down and placing his hands on the other’s chest for better leverage. He was closer to Michael’s face now, and peered up at him, his mouth open in a moan. Michael met his lips for a drawn out, sloppy kiss, his hands going down Ray’s back to squeeze his ass while he rocked up and down his shaft, increasing his pace.

Michael let out a groan, moving his hand up Ray’s spine to tug at his hair, keeping their mouths pressed together. “C-close,” he panted out, voice cracking.

“Oh, fuck,” Ray clenched around Michael’s cock, riding him faster as his own shaft stiffened, close to coming for the second time. Michael’s own thrusts into him became erratic, hanging desperately on the edge for a moment before he pushed Ray’s mouth harshly against his, coming with a muffled groan as Ray slowly sank down onto him.

Ray couldn’t stop himself from whining, stripping his cock while Michael came inside him – fuck, he wanted to come so badly – he kept bouncing up and down on Michael’s shaft, trying to push himself over the edge. “F-fuck Ray, stop!” Michael said, bucking his hips up to try and get Ray off of him. “Fucking sensitive,” he muttered, watching Ray slip off, hand still around his cock. “What? Performance issues?”

“Shut up,” Ray shot back. God, he needed this, just another minute and he’d be coming again…

“Get up here,” Michael said, motioning Ray towards him. Too turned on to think, he moved up the bed until he was straddling Michael’s chest. Before he could bother asking what his friend was doing, Michael moved his head out and sucked on the head of Ray’s cock, his face clashing with boyish innocence and fucking slutty as he batted Ray’s hand away, working his shaft himself.

“O-oh, fuck, Michael…” He couldn’t resist thrusting into Michael’s mouth, not close enough to choke him, but Michael’s tongue teased the underside of his shaft as he rocked back and forth into his mouth, cock twitching as he tried to stop himself from crying out.

“Shit, Michael, I-I’m gonna come,” he struggled to say, starting to pull back. Michael didn’t stop him, but he was sucking even harder now, so much it nearly hurt. He stumbled back so abruptly that he toppled backwards, Michael’s hand still pumping his shaft, now slippery and wet and fuck, Michael’s hand was even better than before. Once again he was stuck panting up at the ceiling, half on top of Michael while he came all over Michael’s fingers, cock twitching helplessly in his hand. “Oh fuck, oh fucking… fuck,” He chewed on his knuckles so he wouldn’t start yelling; it was like he couldn’t stop coming, and he thrust up into Michael’s hand a few more times before collapsing on top of him, unwilling to move another muscle.

A moment later, Michael slowly took his hand away, carefully moving Ray so he was laying perpendicular, his head on Michael’s stomach and his legs hanging off the bed. “Holy shit,” he breathed out, eyes incapable of focusing.

"Yeah,” Michael echoed, his hopefully clean hand petting Ray’s hair. “Can’t believe we haven’t done that in a while.” Ray shut his eyes, giving up on being able to see or do anything but lay there for the next while. “Tired.”

“Mhm.”

“What time is it?” Ray shrugged, furrowing his eyebrows when Michael shifted, rolling onto his side to grab his phone. “We have… ah, a few more hours. It’s not even two.”

“Can we sleep?”

“Sure, but you’re going to have to move.” Ray sighed, dragging himself up and curling against Michael’s side. “That’s not what I meant but okay. And take your glasses of, asshole.” Ray didn’t respond, and maybe Michael thought he was already dozing. He felt fingers curl around his frames and pull them off; a delicate sound as he put them on the nightstand. A blanket went over them, and Michael shifted for another minute before settling his arm over Ray’s stomach. He could feel Michael’s naked hip, his stomach, and if he pushed back his cock, too. “I swear to God we get gayer every time we do this,” Michael said, probably to the both of them, even though Ray was now set on staying quiet, trying to drift off.

The last thing he heard was the click of the bedside lamp, and the last thing he felt was Michael’s lips kissing the back of his neck.


End file.
